However Many Days After
by Kazima Kuwabara
Summary: Voldemort is dead. It's all over...all that's left to do is somehow pickup the pieces and carry on. However long that may take. *a 365 day challenge fic i've inflicted on myself. rating may change.
1. Can't Go Home

Summery: The war is over. He can finally go home. He's always wanted to go home... but now he can't bring himself to do it.

Main Characters: Ron, Neville Longbottom

* * *

Voldemort had been dead for two days now, he was gone and dead and everything was over. The end of a most terrible era had come at last.

Yet somehow it all felt the same. Everything was still terrible, he was still cold, still a bit hungry, wizards and witches were still busying about with a flinching sort of dread as they sifted through the wreckage of Hogwarts, children were still dead- _ _his brother__ was still dead.

Voldemort and his followers, the ones that had fallen, had been removed from the sacked Hogwarts grounds, as had most of the students of Hogwarts. Those of age, Aurors, and other members of the Ministry of Magic, stayed behind at Hogwarts-looking for the bodies of the fallen heroes and those of the death eaters. Bodies lined the Great Hall in a terrible mass. Sheets had been placed over their bodies to spare loved ones from seeing frozen dead faces. It had become a floor of white mounded fabric. Spells were even being wafted in the air to keep the bodies... fresh as they lay there in their temporary tomb.

The Ministry had wanted the bodies to remain at Hogwarts until they were sure they could move the bodies and give them all the proper attention they needed. The bodies needed to be examined, spells that caused the death needed to be identified, and family needed to be found and inforomed. There was so much that needed doing it had been decided that at least for now the bodies needed to remain at Hogwarts until some order could be restored to the Wizarding world. Under Kingsley's new direction, it seemed like the Ministry was at last shaping up and sorting through all the muck that had been so ignored before.

Ron Weasley, secretly was glad to still be at Hogwarts, still stuck in the moment of having something to keep his hands busy.

If he stopped moving, stopped working, he would have to face a world without Fred.

As a child he had dreamed of a world without his twin brothers, specifically without his worst tormentor. He loved Fred, but Fred could be cruel. There had been many fights between them, but there had been many wonderful times too. Fred had always talked to Ron seriously, was always ready to be upfront with him... no matter what needed saying. Fred never shielded Ron the way his older brothers did, but instead Fred stood with Ron and together the two would work through the bad. But yes for all of Fred's notable features ...Ron and Fred had often been at odds from Fred's less notable ones. But Ron loved Fred, and Fred had loved him...

...But now they'd never be able to reach that point in siblings lives when they'd finally be able to fully understand one another as adults, and come to a purer friendship and familial love.

Fred was gone, and nothing would be the same. Not for George, not for his parents...and not for him.

Ron was now sitting quietly in a corner on a half tarnished chair that had once been in the common rooms, but had somehow made its way down to the Great Hall. He was trying and failing to eat a sandwich a house elf had brought him. Ron was having one of those rare times in his life where his appetite was lacking. He'd been half starved on the bloody Horcrux hunt, but now that it was all over, Ron could scarcely bring himself to eat, even if his stomach gnawed painfully within him.

"...We're almost done. The Ministry and St. Mungo's will be ready to receive...all this," a voice cut in to Ron's thoughts, and his tilted his head realizing he was hearing Oliver Wood somewhere to his left.

Ron glanced wearily to his side, and saw the former Quidditch Captain speaking with an older woman Ron didn't recognize. From a glance Ron assumed she was one of the many Healer's who had flooded Hogwarts to offer aid, rather than have patients riskily be swept to the hospital. The pair were filling bottles with a freshly brewed potion...something most likely to help everyone keep their spirits up.

"Yes...yes. By tonight everyone will be able to go home. We're nearly finished here. It'll be good for everyone to head home...those sick little ticks like Rita Skeeter are already trying to get interviews."

Oliver snorted with disgust.

The woman lowered her voice in a whisper, "Someone tried to sneak in to speak to Harry Potter. Got into the castle and were looking for him while ignoring all this... this suffering!"

Ron felt his blood boil, and heard Oliver swear his voice heavy with disgust.

"They were stopped right?"

"Yes, yes. Mr. Weasley is guarding where Harry sleeps at the moment. And I believe Minerva Mcgonagall is sticking with Miss Granger. And I hear Bill and Charlie Weasley are tailing their brother. Those three are being hailed as, 'The Golden Trio,' in papers! I suspect they'll be badgered in the next oncoming days for information about everything that's happened."

Ron felt a cold unnameable emotion flood his stomach, and sat in a frozen dread as he listened to them talk.

"That's sick," Oliver hissed, "Can't those leeches leave well enough alone? Let everyone feel better and then...and then maybe this can be talked about! I don't...I don't even want to imagine what they went through!" Oliver's voice was laced with pity, fear, and dread.

Ron dropped his food, and got up, briskly walking away from the gossiping voices.

 _ _So this is fame then. This is what you wanted.__

Ron's mind hissed and curled with an accusatory tone within his stomach. He shut his eyes, and cringed, trying to shut out the thought when he slammed into a firm chest. Warm arms wrapped around Ron, gripping his shoulders, and Ron's eyes snapped open. It was Charlie...and just hovering in the back was Bill.

' _ _...I am being followed__ ,' Ron thought as an involuntary shudder ran down his back.

Charlie squeezed his little brother's shoulders looking up into Ron's face, "Alright there Ronnie?"

"I...I just need..." Ron licked his dry lips, struggling with saying what he needed.

' _ _Do I even know what I need?__ ' Ron wondered throat feeling tight.

"...You're just ready to go home Ronnie," Charlie said smiling, using Ron's childhood nickname. Ron only ever heard it when his family was worried about him, "But we'll be going tonight. We'll be going home."

Charlie sounded so happy, and Ron dropped his head in his chest. He felt so sick. Ron had wanted to go home for so long...wanted to be warm. Wanted to sleep in clean clothes, and clean sheets, and be in a room with privacy...and now Ron could only think how he didn't deserve a warm bed. He didn't deserve to go home...so many people were dead and gone. They'd never get to go home. And Ron had been a coward...abandoned his friends when the road got hard.

No he didn't deserve to go home.

He didn't say this, knowing it would earn him a smack, so instead Ron whispered, "Charlie...I just need a minute. I need some air."

Charlie squeezed his shoulders and reluctantly let his brother go, "Sure Ron...Sure."

Bill's hand cuffed Ron affectionately by the head, and finally Ron fled. He passed through the Great hall and made his way downstairs. In a familiar stride, he found himself headed for Hagrid's hut. He had no intention of going to pop inside the hut ...but he found himself drawn to the dark forest behind it. The Forbidden Forest didn't seem quite so dangerous now...in fact it seemed welcoming. He could slip inside...and disappear. He'd lived without Harry and Hermione for weeks...over a month. His days had been spent searching for them, as well as some nights. He would occasionally go and stay with Bill and Fleur...but Ron had managed to survive on his own...had managed to never go home.

He could manage it again.

Ron curled his hands into fists, he could disappear and never go home.

They didn't need a coward like him. They'd miss him...but they'd know...surely they'd know how much he'd let them all down. They'd know. And one day they'd say it was better he was gone. One day...they'd understand.

He made to move forward when a hand fell on his shoulder.

Ron jumped, and spun out of the grasp, wand out and pointing at Neville Longbottom who held his hands out passively.

"Don't go Ron," Neville whispered as if he knew everything Ron had been thinking.

Ron didn't lower his wand, his shoulders too tense and and an unknown fear nibbling at him.

"W-What?" Ron asked, voice sounding rough.

"You've got that look...I've seen it a lot here. You want to run away...but don't. You're needed Ron. You Mum...your family...Harry needs you. Hermione needs you."

Ron flinched. He cast his eyes down unable to look at Neville's calm sad face.

"I'm a wart Neville," Ron croaked, "A wart on toad's ass. I've already run away once...and I've got to do it again."

Neville snorted, and he reached out and took Ron's wrist, forcing it to lower. He then gathered Ron up in a hug and held Ron right, "A wart? Now that's a lie if I ever heard one! Come on Ron...talk to me. Help me understand why you need to go. Because trust me, you don't...you're needed. You're sorely needed here. With us, with them..."

"How do you know...how do you know...?" Ron rattled, shaken by the understanding in Neville's voice.

"So many here at Hogwarts would get that same desperate look Ron. So many here...we all went through too much. We're just...we're just kids in a terrible mess. I...I recognize the face of someone wanting to die... of someone swallowed by guilt. But you can't go Ron, you just can't! Talk to me Ron...talk to me. You don't deserve any of what you're feeling. No one does."

Ron sank to his knees, and Neville joined him.

"I've been a whining prat this whole journey...I'm...I'm a coward!" Ron croaked, hands digging into the grass, "And now people want to call me a hero! I'm a fool! I'm a fool...for ever wanting this!"

"You wanted to be famous Ron?" Neville pressed gently.

"No...no...I mean. I wanted attention...I'm just so selfish-"

"Ah yes. The youngest of five brothers wanting to stand out and be valued. Sounds so terribly selfish," Neville agreed sarcastically.

Ron winced at the tone, but carried on miserably, "I...I'm. I'm a selfish sod who only wanted a little limelight for myself! A jealous, greedy, prick!"

"Ron...you're kidding yourself. No, you're __lying__ to yourself! You're not! You're not! You're none of those nasty things! Ron... it's just hard right now. Everything has changed, and is going to be hard for a while. You need to talk to your Mum and Dad. You need friends and family."

"How...How can you know? You weren't there! You weren't there! You don't know what...what I've done. What I've seen. What I was too afraid...What I...I..." Ron was crying now. He was disgusted and embarrassed at letting this happen in front of his classmate, but he just couldn't stop.

"No, No I wasn't with you," Neville agreed, "But you've always been really brave to me Ron... Back when we were first years...and you encouraged me to defend myself against Draco. You said I was twice as good as him. And when Malfoy and I got into it, you fought alongside with me Ron. You'll never know what that meant to me then. It was...it was exactly what I needed. Someone to believe in me. So...no. No I don't know what you went through, and we both know you can be a little thick, and put your feet in it sometimes..."

Ron had calmed, and raised his head to look at Neville. Neville's eyes were red and watery, his face full of emotion, "But you gave me strength. You give people strength Ron. You're none of those things you said you were...and you're the only one who can't see it! You're...You're a light in the dark. Like a lantern...a guide. And even if its not something we want to hear, you tend to say things people need to hear. Back when everyone was being silenced by Voldemort, it was your voice who broke his charm. Your voice that got us to overcome that enforced silence. You gave everyone courage to shout...you'd called to a whole load of people lost in the dark Ron, despite the pain seeing Harry laying there in Hagrid's arms. You're a light in the dark Ronald Weasley, don't go and leave your friends and family Ron. Don't leave 'em in the dark."

Ron took in a shuddering breath, touched by Neville's words, "I'm...I'm not so great-"

"You are!" Neville whispered encouragingly, "As I've said you're the only one who doesn't see it."

Ron was unable to argue against Neville. Neville sounded so sure that Ron was worth something, that Ron wasn't this big failure...Neville was so positive it was even beginning to convince him. Ron no longer felt the need to run, but he still couldn't fathom going home.

"I...I don't think I can go home just yet."

"Then don't," Neville said with a one shouldered shrug. Neville reached out, "Don't go home. Go talk to someone. Talk to your friends, talk to your family...but don't run just yet! Let's get you to your mum, eh?"

Ron nodded, feeling comforted and calmer despite everything, and allowed Neville to pull him to his feet. Feeling weak, Ron threw his arm over Neville's shoulders, and the shorter man silently supported him without being asked.

 _ _'If I'm a lantern in the dark, you're a pillar of strength,'__ Ron thought, promising to tell Neville so when he felt stronger. Staggering against each other the two made their way back towards the school.

"...You're...You're good...good at this," Ron said softly still wanting to somehow thank Neville for his words, "You should be a counselor. Or...or a teacher."

Neville looked sharply at Ron, asking in that old familiar nervous school boyish tone, "Really? You think so?"

Ron nodded, "Yeah. You'd be good at it. I know everyone here felt safe with you...and I can see why."

Neville blushed humbly, and kept his arm at Ron's waist.

The two young men said nothing more, and Ron thought more about what he would do. Maybe he wasn't ready to go home to a warm bed, but he was ready to be with his family. Maybe that could be enough until he could muster the courage to walk into his own front door.

End


	2. Making a Sandwich

She has to see them-her parents. But the thought is all too terrible.

Couple(s): Hermione/Ron

characters: Golden Trio

* * *

"I just don't think I can do this," She squeaked in a shaky voice, gripping the porcelain sink inside the Burrow's bathroom.

Ron and Harry who stood just outside the door looked at each other nervously, and then back to Hermione.

"You can," Harry finally whispered, "You must."

"Harry's right Hermione," Ron agreed, and slid past his best friend to stand behind Hermione. Gently he placed a hand on her back, and slowly rubbed the space between her shoulder blades, "We put it off long enough. You're going mad with the anxiety of all this waiting... it's time to go get your parents and fix their memories. "

"They'll never forgive me!" Hermione sobbed turning around on the spot and burying her head head under Ron's chin, her arms wrapping around him desperately.

Ron held his girlfriend and sighed, "They will...they will. They'll be livid-I'm not denying that. But they'll forgive you. Harry and I are both coming with you...we'll be your support. You're not going alone."

"They'll hate me!" Hermione sobbed, shaking from the source of her sobs.

"Nah," Ron disagreed, "Who could hate you?"

Harry wiggled his way into the bathroom, and shared a look with Ron. Ron nodded, and smiled at Harry, lifting his shoulders in half a shrug. Harry gently approached and settled into a hug with the pair, successfully sandwiching Hermione between them. For a moment Hermione's sobs became muffled, and then all was silent. Harry and Ron exchanged looks quietly counting down what would happen next.

A snort, and then loud giggle suddenly erupted from Hermione.

Ron and Harry's faces split into wide grins.

"What are you doing?" She giggled, voice muffled from her enclose space.

"Making a sobby witch sandwich," Harry answered.

"Hey! That's rude! We're making a brilliant sobby witch sandwich!" Ron said with a fake air of annoyance.

"Oh my mistake," Harry apologized dramatically, loudly talking over Hermione's wet giggles.

"...a brilliant __sexy__ sobby witch sandwich..." Ron continued, an odd grin creeping on his face.

Harry made a face and cringed within the hug. "Hermione I've got to let you go. Ron's ruined it."

"He has hasn't he?" Hermione giggled, a hiccup sneaking in with her giggles.

"Ruined it? Bah!" Ron sniffed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he fought a silly grin.

Hermione giggled as Harry released her, tears still filled her eyes, but her face looked brighter. She looped her arms through her boyfriend's and her best friend and sniffled, "Thank you. Thank you both for coming with me. I know there's a lot going on...and...and everyone has their own problems but...but I really need you both with me for this."

Harry smiled reassuringly at Hermione, and Ron kissed the top of her head.

"We're here 'Mione," Ron rumbled gently from the top of her bushy curls, "Don't worry. You're Mum and Dad...they're gonna love you. They'll throttle you a bit, but they'll love you."

Hermione giggled wetly again, and with a sigh whispered, "There's only one thing left to do..."

"What's that?" Harry asked, brow furrowing with concern.

Hermione sighed a slow smile edging on her face as she cast twinkling eyes between the two men in the room, "Well I don't want to let either of you go, but I don't think we can get through that door frame."

End


	3. Time to Go

Everyone wants to see the boy-who-lived. Harry just wants some space.

Character(s): Harry, Ron

* * *

 _ _'Maybe when the summer is over...Maybe after Hermione finds her parents...maybe in a year or two then I'll go. Then I can leave...it'd be appropriate to go th-'__

"You don't have to stay in here, mate," Ron's solemn voice interrupted Harry's thoughts.

Harry's head snapped up to look up at his best friend who sat on a cot across from him. Ron had tired eyes, and a sad look about his face, even as he smiled wearily at Harry.

"I know...it's not...it can't be easy to still be sleeping...in this tent," Ron began.

"No...it's not the tent Ron!" Harry immediately interjected, not wanting Ron to begin a long guilty apology.

Ron had been unable to step foot in the Burrow since the fall of Voldemort, and that had been over three weeks ago.

Ron had told his parents at Hogwarts, just before they were all supposed to finally head for home, that he couldn't face going to sleep in a warm bed. Mrs. Weasely had been very upset, and almost slipped into hysterics, but Author had reacted with more calm. He took his wife and calmed her with firm hands, and with a commanding but gentle voice, coaxed Ron to talk. Ron couldn't explain it, or at least wasn't ready to name it, but Ron just couldn't sleep inside the house yet. He wanted to be with his family, but Ron was not ready to go to the Burrow and sleep in his own bed. Ron and his parents were at a loss for what to do.

Mr. Weasley had then quietly approached Harry and Hermione and revealed the predicament. Force had been suggested by Harry, but meekly. Hermione had burst into tears at the thought of Ron too uncomfortable to go home, and she sobbed, "This is because I got so cross with him after..." She did not finish, wishing not to speak to Ron's father about Ron leaving them for a time. If Mr. Weasley was to know, Ron should tell his father-not her. But it would be her job ( Hermione had decided ) to tell the Weasleys just how bad off Ron had been injured, and how intense the pressure from the locket Ron wore around his neck had been. She wouldn't let Ron perpetually blame himself for something Voldemort has caused, and neither would Harry.

"You're not to blame! If anyone's to blame it's me! When he was hungry and injured I told him he just...that he just wanted to go home to his mum-"

"No," Arthur Weasley said firmly, hands falling on Hermione's and Harry's shoulders.

"No..." he said again shifting his fatherly gaze between the two, "What ever happened out there-none of it is your fault. Neither of you are to blame...you three did an amazing selfless act that forced to be without a lot...and...and Voldemort and his followers..." Mr. Weasley stopped unable to speak further. Harry caught his elbow, and Hermione clasped both of her hands on top of the older man's hand.

Mr. Weasley took in a breath, "You were hunted down by death eaters and Voldemort, and I know terrible things must have happened. One day we'll all speak of it...but not now. Right now...lets find a way to bring Ron home...and then alert his brothers and sister. They mean well...but I understand how my children work, and they might do more harm than good if they try to talk with Ron about this. We just...need to put our heads together."

In the end, it was agreed trying to force Ron inside was not the answer. Everyone was needing to adjust and cope in light of the past year's events, and this may just have to be Ron's way. But Ron couldn't just stay in a hotel or something, his family would go ballistic to have Ron be absent from them. How could the Weasleys support each other with one more missing family member? One more Weasely brother... son... friend... __gone__. Gone like Fred.

No... no, it couldn't be done.

It was Molly Weasley, who surprisingly suggested that Ron camp out in the tent the trio had been using for so long already.

The thought seemed to make everybody cringe, but when it was suggested to Ron, he'd ducked his head and thanked everyone sincerely. Ron's problem wasn't revealed to his siblings until they all arrived at the Burrow. Arthur and Molly then told the rest of the family that Ron couldn't come in the house. There'd been an explosive uproar at first, but it was Ron who demanded silence.

"No one is keeping me outside-it's me! I don't want to go inside! I...I CAN'T! Just stop...stop shouting. I just...I can't bloody go inside," Ron hissed, cheeks blotched with color, as he turned away from his family. Ron's shoulders sagged, and he broke down again, just like he had when Fred passed.

It had been a terrible sight to see Ron's shaking shoulders, and hear him whimper out apologies, "I just...can't go inside. I can't explain it right now. Please...please understand."

"And you don't have to come inside until you're ready love," Molly whispered wetly, smiling at her son. She approached Ron gently and rubbed her son's back, "Take your time sweetheart. You are home now. The house isn't home...we are. And we'll support you in whatever you need from us," she sent a sharp eye at her children with her last words. She placed her hand gently at his back, and Ron turned on the spot and flung his arms around his mother, whispering shaking apologies in her hair.

"My precious boy! No...no... you don't need to apologize!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed and hugged Ron tight.

Ron's break down had led to a Weasley family hug, plus one Granger, and one Potter.

They all at once had descended upon each other, and wept as they clung to each other. George had managed to squeeze his way next to Ron and grip his younger brother tight. Harry had heard George softly whisper, "I get it...I get it Ronnie." Ron wasn't the only one who camped out in the charmed tent that night...or for all the nights Ron had stayed in the tent.

George was the first roommate to bunker down and share that tent with Ron.

Harry couldn't leave his best friend alone of course, and followed suit, followed shortly by Hermione. There was another cot, and that cot had been slept in by every member of the Weasley family, all wanting to share in Ron's grief, and show understanding for his personal battle. They were all grieving...they didn't have to do it alone. The family and friends spent most of their time outside. And after Fred was laid to rest, had all retreated to the tent. With Hermione's help, the tent's charm was adjusted so that the interior had been doubled so the whole family could squeeze in.

George had made his first joke then, saying that Perkin's smelly old charmed tent was quite a lovely space. If it wasn't for the lingering cat piss smell.

Molly swatted him on the head for his language, but it had been half-hearted at best. She was just pleased to hear any of the old George.

Many people visited, and Harry was grateful Kingsley popped by so often to make sure no one disturbed them. It was amazingly kind of him, considering the fact that Kingsley was so busy being newly appointed Ministry of Magic and all. Harry had accidentally overheard Kingsley inform Arthur that there would be therapy available for all of them as soon as they were ready to take it...and it was required for anyone who wished to be an Auror. Harry was sure somehow Kingsley had intended for him to hear this bit of information.

The summer after the fall of Voldemort was now half spent, and both Harry and Hermione had made visits with therapists. For the most part both Harry and Hermione agreed that soon they'd be done... they had had enough mucking through their traumas for now. The word was still under siege of Death Eaters, a full recovery didn't feel possible right now... but as it was suggested by Harry's therapist: " Take it day by day. And on the really bad days, talk. Even if it's to no one at all."

Ron had yet to start therapy with a professional medi-wizard, preferring to talk to Harry and Hermione instead. Ron had been very adverse to the idea, but quiet talks with Hermione, and a nod of encouragement from his siblings and parents were making Ron come around. He had promised to start seeing someone before the month was out.

Things were moving slowly and falling steadily into place...but still they were in this tent.

Ron still needed time.

Hermione still needed to find a way back to her parents.

And Harry needed... he needed peace from wizards who just wanted a statement...

"What is it then?" Ron asked interrupting Harry's thoughts, and bringing him back to the present.

Harry shook his head, holding a hand up, "It's not the tent. It's not. I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep without your snoring now to be honest."

Ron snorted, "Don't tell Gin that!"

The two shared a look, and grinned before sniggering quietly.

But the laughter fell away, and Ron tried again, "...What is it Harry?"

Harry tilted his head, and leaned forward off his cot, on the brink of making a decision. The silence stretched, and just as Ron opened his mouth to talk, Harry got up and took a seat next to his taller friend. Ron lifted and shifted down his cot a little, allowing more room for his best friend. After the two were settled, Harry folded his hands and stared down at his shoes.

"I think...I want to disappear for a little bit. Everyone is...trying to find me. They want an interview. They want me to tell the story. They want a statement. They want this...they want that. And I'm...I'm tired. I've given a statement. Talked to Kingsley. Talked to hundred of bloody Aurors. I'm tired. I don't know what I have left to give, but they still want more..." Harry admitted quietly voice deflating more as he spoke.

Ron pursed his lips and studied his friend. After a pause he wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, "...How long would you be gone?"

"...At least a few weeks."

"Do you know where you would go?"

"Away," Harry answered softly, a calm look of peace flickering in his eyes, "Just...away. Be...just me and not the boy-who-lived for awhile."

Ron squeezed Harry's shoulders, "...Would you be against having company?"

Harry's head snapped to stare at his best friend shock in his wide green eyes, but Ron would not meet Harry's gaze.

Ron took a deep breath and began to speak softly, "You're right. The wizarding world is going bonkers...Dad says that Aurors are posted around us just to make sure no one sneaks in to question us. I wasn't supposed to say but..." Ron lowered his voice even further, "Hermione and Ginny got approached by some journalist while out with Mum and Fleur. They asked something...Hermione won't say what, but whatever it was made her burst into tears."

Ron scowled bitterly, and Harry felt his stomach knot up and his blood boil.

' _ _Bloody vultures,__ ' Harry thought, his lip curling with disgust.

Ron eventually pressed on, "Ginny says Fleur and Mum gave the guy such a lashing that he turned gray and fled. Then Fleur hexed some oranges and they pummeled the man as he ran!"

Harry found himself grinning despite the gnaw of anger still twisting in his belly, and then finally Ron made eye contact. Ron broke in to an identical grin, and the two were laughing both hugging each other's sides tight. Tears rolled down Ron's cheeks, and Harry had to remove his glasses and wipe the fog that had appeared on his lenses.

Harry cleared his throat, "Is...is Hermione okay though?"

Ron nodded his smile fading slowly, "Yeah...I think it's about her parents. She says there's too much to do right now...but she needs to go see 'em. I...I think she's scared."

Harry nodded, and Ron let out a sharp breath, "I...It's weird but I never...sometimes its hard to imagine Hermione afraid of anything."

Harry pat Ron's back, quietly agreeing.

Silence followed and Ron asked again, "Would you mind company?"

"...Hermione needs to see her parents. And you need to be with your family," Harry muttered, eyes going to his feet.

"...Yeah. We'll be here with my family for a bit...and then we'll go get Hermione's parents-all three of us. And then together...maybe we could just take a month...to...to be us," Ron suggested his hand squeezing Harry's shoulders.

"I-I..." Harry took a deep breath, "I want you both with me...but I can't ask-"

"You're not," Ron interjected, "I'm offering. And I know 'Mione will agree...some time alone together just...on our own. With no Horcruxes to find, and no reporters to meddle-in contact with our friends and family...I think it would do us some good. We can't disappear forever...there's still a lot to do. But we all earned a vacation."

Harry swallowed and then smiled at Ron, who met him with an equally glowing smile. Harry nodded, "Yes...Yes. Let's...the three of us...go somewhere. Let's...be anonymous for a little while."

Ron sighed looking more relaxed, and Harry too felt a great weight lift off his shoulders. There would be a day when Harry would have to live on his own, and face the world alone. But right now he was not ready, just as Ron wasn't ready to go in his own house, and just like Hermione wasn't ready to face her parents. But one day they'd be ready...and it was nice to think that somehow it still might be with each other.

End


	4. What was Needed

Summery: She's done it all before, that's how she knows what to do. Even if it's painful.

Character(s): Hermione, Molly Weasley

Additional Notes: One of my favorite Harry Potter fanfic writers is Solstice Muse. I just finished up reading the only story of hers i never read. I never read it because I knew it ended sadly, and i didn't want to have some heart break! But the story is called Lost in Parasomnia, one of her her ealier works. In it, Molly's two (known) brothers are twins. I just loved that idea so much I ran with it. It is my own personal head canon that Molly had been the only girl in a large family, so I added a few more siblings to Molly's line.

* * *

Hermione leaned heavily against the Burrow's back porch, watching Ron and his brothers laugh and talk. She wasn't sure what the conversation was about...maybe Fred. Fred was the subject of a lot of talks lately, and George had made it his soul mission to make sure everyone laughed when they brought up his twin. Even if tears came first, the conversation had to end in laughter. The Weasley were a little more lively today as they had a guest over.

Luna had come by and sat in front of Harry and Ron, wearing a big sun hat that resembled a large bird's nest. A toy griffin was seated at the top of her hat, and would bow every so often. Her dress was a bright mauve with tiny griffins had been been bewitched to dance around the hem.

It was quite an amazing outfit really, and Hermione couldn't help bat marvel at the wild get up.

In Luna's lap was a simple journal and pencil. But it would soon contain an exclusive interview from the, "Golden Trio," ( as they were being called around the Wizarding world ) for the Quibbler. Harry was ready to talk, as were Ron and Hermione. It was time to get the story out, as much of it as they were willing to tell. They would be giving Luna, as well as the Weasely family the whole story. Luna promised to write down only what the three wanted published, leaving out details of torture or any other unpleasantness that the trio didn't want published.

It was a little nerve wracking to finally be on the verge of telling the whole story as there were holes that the trio had kept from each other. Hermione didn't know what Ron underwent from the locket, Neither Harry or Ron knew what happened to Hermione during her torture, and Harry seemed to have a few more details about his time alone in the woods that he needed to tell. They would all finally be caught up and know everything, and soon the wizarding world would know a great deal of it.

The thought was very taxing, but if anyone was to be trusted with this story, Luna could be.

She'd already helped her father publish a very lovely story about her own imprisonment at the Malfoy manor, a story that had been very hard and dark, and often detailed descriptions of Xeno Lovegood breaking down over his daughter's plight were woven in the story. Luna had told her Dad everything because she was certain he needed to hear everything in order to heal. But with a kind smile she'd assured Harry, Ron, and Hermione that they needn't tell her everything.

"If you come across something that's not ready to leave you yet, keep it. It's not good to hold onto darkness, but neither is it good to let it leave too soon," Luna has said with a small smile. Her large eyes had then turned to Ron's tent in his backyard and she gasped, "Oh how lovely! Can I sleep in it?"

Luna had always been odd to Hermione, but now Hermione could barely think of another witch whom she'd respected more.

"Here you are dears, some sandwiches!" Molly's motherly tone brushed past Hermione as the mother brought out food to her children and guests.

She was profusely thanked, and Ron took about four sandwiches as everyone laughed. George called him a git, and his mother pinched his cheek promising there'd be more. George brushed scarlet as his brothers and sister laughed. George made a grand show of huffing and puffing, and went to fetch some chocolate he'd stowed away in his cot inside Perkin's former tent. Molly's smile did not waver, but her eyes looked at the tent that George had disappeared into and that her children had been sleeping in. There was a flicker of some deep emotion, but it passed quickly as she kissed the top of Ron's head, and ruffled both Harry and Ginny's hair messing them until Ginny was complaining loudly.

As Mrs. Weasley headed back up the porch she caught Hermione's eye and approached her casually, though she blocked Hermione's view of everyone, "Hermione dear would you help me with this soup I'm making for tonight? It's going to rain later and I'd feel better if everyone had warm soup inside them before you all slept in that drafty thing again," She tossed a hand over her shoulder gesturing wildly at the tent.

"Of course!" Hermione eagerly agreed, and followed the older witch back into the kitchen.

When inside, Hermione saw that soup was already made, and packed in magically sealed jars that would keep the soup warm for as long as it was needed. Confused, Hermione turned to Mrs. Weasley to find the older woman gently offering her a tea towel.

"You're crying again my dear," Mrs. Weasley said with an incredibly understanding look on her face.

Hermione jumped and touched her face. And so she was... her face was drenched as great big tears lolled down her face.

"I-I hadn't noticed. I didn't realize..."

"Hush now...it's alright. I just know you wouldn't have wanted them all to see..." Mrs. Weasley said helping to guide the towel in Hermione's hands.

Hermione dabbed her cheeks, and took in a calm breath, "Thank you," she whispered her voice feeling strained.

Mrs. Weasley nodded and peered outside at everyone out back, a blank look crossing her face. Somehow Mrs. Weasley seemed to be taking in the fact her children couldn't come inside their childhood home with stride. It was amazing that Mrs. Weasley hadn't gone into an over emotional state of distress. The poor mother was known for her emotional temper.

"How do you do it?" Hermione found herself asking.

Mrs. Weasley jumped a little and turned to look at Hermione.

"Do what?" Mrs. Weasley asked tilting her head in confusion.

"How are you so...calm? Ron can't come inside...and...and everyone is out there in that tent-that blasted tent!" Hermion's voice choked up a hand on her chest. It felt suddenly very hard to breathe. She took in a large gulping breath trying to get herself under control, but before she could speak again, Hermione found herself wrapped up in Mrs. Weasley's arms.

The two woman held each other a moment, and then Hermione found herself being sat down at the kitchen table, and her hands were taken up in the older woman's. Mrs. Weasely rubbed Hermione's hands, and squeezed the young witch's fingers, pouring in motherly affection through hands alone.

Hermione had always felt that there was some distance between her and Ron's mom. It had always felt as if Mrs. Weasley didn't quite trust her. Hermione knew now, that Mrs. Weasley had known Hermione's heart... had known Hermione had strong feelings for Ron. And no doubt Mrs. Weasley had seen the same longing in Ron's eyes for Hermione. It must have been hard to see her little boy so quickly falling in love. Especially with people like Rita Skeeter painting Hermione to be like some harlot. That had been between them before Hermione had even understood how much she'd longed for Ron.

But right now as Mrs. Weasley held Hermione's hands, none of that seemed between them.

"Hermione," Mrs. Weasley began softly, "I'm going to say something that may come off as...maybe rude or even angry. But it's not. The simple fact is...you all aren't the only ones to have lost something. Someone. Family. This is...this is not my second time to lose family."

Hermione's eyes welled with tears, as did Mrs. Weasley.

"I came from a large family myself you know...it may not have crossed your mind...but my family, my parents, my brothers... they are never...never brought up," Mrs. Weasley whispered wetly, "That's because...you-know...that's because Voldemort wiped out my line during the firs Wizarding War. The Weasley line is strong...but there will be no more Prewetts from my line." Molly Weasley took in a deep breath, steadying herself as she continued speaking, "I was the oldest of my family. After me I had two more brothers, Cecil, and Ignatius. Then there were the youngest members, who came to my mother as a surprise. They were Fabian and Gideon, twins as well you know," Molly looked up at Hermione's face, a bright light in her eyes as she began speaking of her brothers, "So much like George and...and darling Fred..."

Hermione squeezed Mrs. Weasley's hands as the woman stumbled over her son's name.

"Oh Freddy..." Mrs. Weasley moaned, shutting her eyes for a moment. Taking several breaths, she blinked eyes eyes open and continued, "During the first Wizarding War, I was a messenger to the Order. Sometimes, Arthur and I helped transport wizards and witches away from danger, to safer homes... but for the most part we played messengers. I had many young children at the time, so I wasn't looking to get as heavily involved with the Order of Phoenix at that time. But my parents...well...well they were a little more involved. My mother, father...Cecil and Ignatius were wiped out in my old family home. Death Eaters had torn the house apart, but they never found what they were looking for. Turns out it was where the Order's new location. Under torture my family had managed to conceal that the Order's meeting place was their own basement. It feels ugly to be so proud of them, but I am. They took torture and never revealed that what Voldemort wanted was just down the stairs! "

Hermione hiccuped suddenly, and realized again she'd been crying.

Now that Mrs. Weasely had started it didn't seem she could stop, "A little over a year later I lost Fabian and Gideon as well. I lost everyone so quickly-and wouldn't you know it, Voldemort fell not two months later after my brothers' deaths? I was so bitter," Molly said spitting out the last words and shaking her head, "Oh I was so bitter. But I had children. I had to persevere. I had to."

"How?" Hermione asked in a squeaking voice, "How?"

Molly Weasley smiled a little, and wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hands, and then wiped Hermione's face and cupped her cheek, "After I lost my parents I looked to my children. As a mother, I needed to be strong for them...I had my husband...I had so much love. But at the same time I needed more love, I needed the greatest love I knew...so I got pregnant with Ron."

Hermione's mouth opened in surprise as Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"Having babies made me feel whole. I lost my whole family...but within me I could create a new one along with my husband. I could build a happy life out of misery. I was determined. And when I had Ron I felt that if I could continue to have children, if babies could still be born in all this heartache, if families could continue to grow in the wake of being ripped apart... then I could be okay. Love could still exist in this heartbreaking world if I had my children. And then after Ron I had Ginny...who came at the perfect time just as he did. Just before I lost Fabian and Gideon I had Ginny. I had no time to fall into depression when I had my beautiful children to worry about...my darling loves."

Molly let out a long sigh, and brought both hands back to Hermione's trembling hands. She smiled, her face wet, and eyes tired. She looked as if she'd revealed a great secret that she'd been holding on to for years.

"So you see...I knew how to heal myself then. I had my children..." Mrs. Weasley concluded sounding at peace.

Hermione bowed her head and let out a wretched sob as she felt panic clench at her heart, "How...How do you go on __now__ though? How! You've lost Fred! Your baby..." Hermione bit her lip to silence herself instantly regretting her words. When under stress she tended to blurt out the most insensitive things, and now she was really kicking herself for it. Before she could stammer out apologies over her hiccups and sobs, Molly took Hermione's chin, and lifted her face up. With gentle hands she smoothed Hermione's hair back and looked into the young witch's eyes.

"Hermione...I go on because my children still need me. More than ever now. I know what it's like to lose a brother. I know. Arthur knows. I wish with all my heart my family could have been spared this pain...but I have other children who need me. And Freddie always hated to see me cry, so I must be strong for him too. He'd hate to see his Mummy give up and not help George or Ron...I can't let them down, and I won't let Fred down."

Hermione launched herself across the table and crushed Mrs. Weasley in a tight hug, "You have me too! If...if it's too much, if you're sad, please talk to me! I love you, I'll help support you! I'll help you!"

The two sobbed for a long time, and held each other tight wrapped up in love and support. When they calmed they dried their eyes, and helped each other clean their faces and look like they hadn't been crying for almost an hour. Of course they failed, but hopefully no one would point out their red rimmed eyes.

As Hermione got up to rejoin everyone outside she paused and smiled at Mrs. Weasley, "That story...about why you had Ron...you should tell it to him. He really needs to hear it."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and nodded gently, "Alright. I will then."

Hermione made her way outside, thanking the heavens for surrounding her with strong woman. Surely, she'd be able to overcome any sadness with woman like Molly Weasley around.

End


	5. Fogged Glass

It was a curse to be whittled down to one, when you were meant to two.

Character(s): George

* * *

George watched his father wave his wand over the last mirror in the Weasley house. He tapped the glass with a soft tap of his wand, and looked pleased with what change he saw. Touching the glass with his forefinger, he smiled again as something met his his expectations. Arthur turned to smile at George, his eye dry but blood-shot, "There we go m'boy. All done. If anyone wants to use the mirror they just need to tap it with a finger, otherwise it's frosted. Now...why don't you shower, and I'm going to pop over to your flat and shop, and go get everything ready for you when you feel like retuning."

Arthur's voice was cheery and he clapped George's shoulder. He gently tugged on the beard George was beginning to obtain before adding, "And if you need a shave...your Mum and I...we can help with that."

George smiled and rubbed his whiskers. They were infuriatingly itchy. He hated them. "Think I might keep the beard a might longer, it makes me look incredibly handsome and rugged," George said flashing a large grin.

Arthur nodded smiling slowly at his son. With a gentle pat, Mr. Weasley marched down stairs headed to join the rest of his family downstairs.

George stepped in the bathroom, and willed himself to look at the mirror.

With great relief he could not see his reflection, there was a colored blur, but he could not see his face. Though George had changed after the battle of Hogwarts, missing an ear, and sporting whiskers-he still looked like __him.__ He could still see Fred. George had been dodging all reflective objects for almost two months now, and then this morning he shattered a mirror. He'd caught his profile in the mirror's reflection, and for a foolish, wonderful couple of seconds he thought Fred was beside him. When he realized he was next to a mirror he punched it with a scream, shattering the glass.

He'd caused quite a bit of commotion.

Bill's arms had wrapped around him, and both George and his father had grasped his bleeding hand, while him Mum immediately went about clearing glass with a flick of her wand.

George hadn't needed to say what had upset him. Before an hour had passed Hermione was instructing Mr. Weasley how to magic mirrors and make them appear fogged, while also still maintain a way for others to be allowed to use them. George couldn't help but be impressed with how his family knew what he needed without him saying anything...but then again maybe he shouldn't be. They had lost Fred too.

 _ _'But it's not the same for them... it's not,'__ George's mind whispered spitefully.

George snatched up his toothbrush and began to brush his teeth.

Half an hour later he had showered, and cleaned up. He wasn't in the mood to head downstairs, or to the tent that he'd been sleeping in with Ron and the others for the past two months. Instead he looked to the familiar door of his old room. Slowly he grasped the door knob, and with a bracing breath went inside. George shut the door, and with an elbow flicked on the light switch. His mother had obviously been keeping it clean. There was no dust, but nothing had been moved. There was still chaos on his and Fred's old desk. Designs for inventions, and failed tests all over the room. A piece of wand here, an extendable ear there, a piece of a canary cream over there...

George felt his throat tighten, but smiled at all the old items.

Carefully he made his way to a desk, and opened the last drawer and pulled out a stack of letters. They had been written after George had come home with a missing ear. Not right after, but as soon as George was feeling more on the mend, he and Fred had set to writing letters to their siblings and parents... just in case they died. It had been Fred's idea whispered to George in the middle of the night.

"I...I would be lost if you died that night, So would have the whole family. I can't stand the thought," Fred had whispered that night almost a year ago. He had turned away from George looking out into the night, eyes glistening. George had thought Fred had looked so different that night. Fred took in a deep breath, " So let's write something. Wills. Good-byes. Jokes. Whatever it is, we need to write something to our family... just in case the unspeakable happens."

Almost a year later, and the unspeakable had happened, Fred was gone... and George was truly grateful for his twins foresight in the matter.

Thumbing through the letters, George plucked up the last two. One was addressed to Fred, while the other was addressed to George. These had been the only two letters the pair had written apart. George swallowed hard, and carefully opened the letter addressed to him. Carefully he held the thick parchment in his hand, and after several calming breaths, began to read.

 _ _Dear Feorge,__

 _ _If I have gone, and left you alone-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know an apology sounds meaningless, but there it is. I am so sorry George.__

 _ _But I'm glad it was me.__

 _ _Now don't get upset Georgie Porgie, hear me out! I know that's hard with you being so unbalanced and all!__

 _ _But look. I'm not going to make it without you. I won't ask for help, or let on how much your absence would hurt me. I'm the more destructive out of us, and we both know that. If you're gone, then I would follow suit... in one way or another. I can't ask for help George. I'm weak in that way. But you're strong George. You could do it. You could make it. I'm not saying it won't hurt, but I am saying you're less of a git than I am. You're strong enough to ask for help.__

 _ _So ask George, ask.__

 _ _Don't face the world alone, because there are a million Weasleys out there. The most important Weasleys are the other seven you're surrounded by, and I know they're hurting too if I'm gone. So talk to each other. You're not alone.__

 _ _Look after Mum. Don't let her cry forever. I hate it when she cries. Make sure Dad's okay too, and it's not his fault. He can't protect his children from everything. Don't let Bill or Charlie feel responsible, just because they're older. That doesn't mean they can take the blame for all this. Make sure Percy knows I forgive him for being a prat. If he hasn't come around and is still being an idiot even after I'm dead-well then he can fuck off. (You don't have to tell him that. I won't do that to you Georgie.) Tell Ron I'm sorry about his bear. It's always bothered me that I did that. I'm sorry I took the piss out of him so much, but I loved him. Don't let him think I hated him. And Ginny. Our little partner in crime. Tell her to stay as she is, and that I love her. And that any boy she dates I plan on haunting.__

 _ _So I mean it when I write that I hope its me that kicks it. I'm selfish. I would hurt our family more by leaving them later if you were lost. But you won't do that, because you're so strong. So much stronger than me.__

 _ _I love you mate,__

 _ _With the fondest farewell from your much better looking brother,__

 _ _Gred__

 _ _P.S. I'm really sorry to have left you alone. So sorry George.__

 _ _P.P.S. I'll be looking out for you. Don't worry.__

George was sobbing as he folded the letter. He tossed it on his desk and buried his face in his hands, his body shaking as it was overtaken by his sobs. He cried for a long time, but eventually a few chuckles began to escape him as his tears slowed. The letter was so Fred. It was a literal piece of him. For a moment Fred was sitting here with George, and they were a pair again. Swallowing hard, George folded up the letter.

He would never be fully okay, not ever again. But he could try. He could live. Even with this cold dead hole at his side, even if he could never look in another mirror again, he could live because Fred had asked him to. Because Fred believed in him.

Leaving the letter behind for now, George got up. Quietly he left his childhood bedroom behind, and went to rejoin his family.

End


	6. Unlikable vs Evi

Harry finds himself asking for mercy for an unlikable family.

character(s): Harry, Kingsley, Arthur, Malfoy family.

* * *

"...Narcissa..."

Harry jumped as he heard a name that drew him from his barely conscious state.

Harry had just come from Fred's funeral, and the echoing sounds of terrible sobbing had left him hollow and weary. He was currently sitting inside the Weasley's front den, unable to sit in the tent with Ron and listen to him and his family weep. Desiring a moment alone, Harry found himself inside the Weasley home. With Ron outside, the family was often out in the back, rather than their own home. Bitterly Harry couldn't help but think he'd robbed the Weasleys of their son and brother, as well the comfort that the Burrow used to bring. No matter what the Weasely's told him, the sting of guilt and cold shame clung to him tightly making Harry feel weak. Harry wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to think of all those lives lost, and somehow not blame himself.

He had been sitting still for hours, feeling numb and weak, when a name caught his attention.

Getting to his feet he wandered to the front door of the burrow to see Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley were talking, Kingsley keeping a supporting hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"So they'll be arrested then?" Mr. Weasley was whispering, his voice raw from the crying he had been doing hours earlier.

"Yes. The courts were lenient in the past, but it being the second time around...well the whole Malfoy family may be facing time," Kingsly answered softly.

"No," Harry found himself interrupting, startling not only the two men, but himself as well. Approaching the two older men he respected, Harry cleared his throat. He couldn't quite meet any of their eyes. The Malfoys were certainly not liked by anyone here, and a cruel part of Harry thought they'd be getting what they deserved if they faced arresting... but it wasn't right. Harry had known for a long time now Draco Malfoy wanted no part in what his family had been involved in. And Narcissa Malfoy had saved his life back in the dark forest. Her love for her son was evident back in the Forbidden forest as she desperately whispered for her son's whereabouts.

She has saved Harry's life by lying to Voldemort, and whether if was for the good of everyone, or to see her son again, the reason didn't matter.

Narcissa had helped destroy Voldemort by concealing Harry's state back in the forest, and that couldn't be forgotten.

"Please...is there anything we can do? Narcissa risked her life by hiding the fact Voldemort hadn't killed me back in the Forbidden forest. And...Draco," Harry swallowed, his school rival's name suddenly hard to say, "I've seen things that would prove he didn't want any part in what he was forced to do. He too also saved my life when snatchers captured us. Even if he did not actively free us, you could argue that his actions save my life, Hermione's and Ron's."

Kingsley and Mr. Weasley looked to each other, and then to Harry.

"Well your story is not yet known," Kingsley began slowly, "You'll have to give a testimony, and you may need to speak on their behalf sharing everything you know. In all likeliness your words will be listened above everyone else's testimony. They will carry a lot of weight, so you must be sure that they are deserving of your defense. The Malfoy's have gotten away with crimes before, and their racism against muggle born witches and wizards has always been clear..."

"That..." Harry took in a deep breath, and looked to Kingsley and Mr. Weasley, "It doesn't matter what they did in the past, or even their racism. They may have been supporters of Voldemort in the past, but it was clear to me that at least Draco and his mother wanted no part in what was happening now. They are unlikable, but not evil. I can't speak fully for Lucius Malfoy, but I can say when the Hogwarts battle was at their climax that both he and Narcissa were looking for their son. Not looking to hurt anyone."

Both Kingsley, and Mr. Weasley shook their heads, seeming to accept Harry's words. Mr. Weasley smiled, and reached out taking Harry's shoulder. He have Harry's shoulder a squeeze and said, "It takes a big man to defend someone you don't like...you're bigger than I Harry. I don't know if I could defend Lucius!" Mr. Weasley chuckled, and the sound made Harry want to cry.

Harry had thought he'd stolen any chance for happiness from the Weasley family. And to know he'd made Mr. Weasley proud, and that the man had even managed a laugh and make a small joke... it gave Harry hope that things would get one day be better. That there was a dawn after all this darkness.

Kingsley clapped Harry's arm, "Sometime before the week is out I need a statement, and maybe even a Pensieve."

"Yes sir," Harry said with a nod.

Kingsley turned to leave, "Good lad! You'll be a great Auror one day, just and fair! The Ministry sorely needs more wizards like you Mr. Potter. I expect to see you with us, one day soon!"

Mr. Weasley squeezed Harry's shoulder with affection and pride, and Harry couldn't help but allow him self a small smile.

End


	7. Australia

Hermione's parents will get a little revenge on their daughter. Nothing like embarrassing your child eh?

Character(s): Golden trio, the Grangers.

* * *

"How could you do this to us?!" Mrs. Granger's incensed shout echoed on the front porch.

Harry and Ron both winced.

The pair of them were sitting outside a small little beach home, as Hermione reunited with her parents. It had taken a lot of planning to arrive at Australia, but the trip had been rather short. With help via the Ministry, Kingsley had gotten in touch with A.M.C. or the the Australian Magical Commonwealth, and with their help tracked Hermione's parents down under their new aliases. The Grangers, or the "Wilkins," had settled down on Gold Coast, in a lovely beach house. Hermione's mum and Dad had both gotten a job at a surfing shack, much to the amusement of Harry and Hermione, and confusion of Ron.

( It had been quite a feat to explain to Ron that there was a sport where you balanced on a flat piece of wood while riding a wave. The red head had been baffled how you managed this without magic or drowning or getting crushed on to rock, or eaten by a shark-Ron's lists of ways to die had been rather long. )

The A.M.C. then set up a secret portkey for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and when the three arrived in Austraila were even gracious enough to drop them off near where Hermione's parents now resided.

"Now don't forget, you have paperwork you must come back 'n' fill out before you head back to England," a dark skinned wizard had said to the three of them, "Ministry rules 'n' all."

"We promise, and thank you!" Harry has said, briskly shaking the wizard's hand.

The man smiled, "Bonza luck!"

He drove away, with Ron mouthing the word, "bonza" looking bewildered. Hermione had smiled, and slipped her hand in his, and then another in Harry's before tugging them to a small beach house. She at last was ready to be reunited with her parents. Yes, the trip had been nice and easy, and the journey to Mr. and Mrs. Granger's front door even easier... but of course now that they were here, and Hermione had restored her parents' memories.

That was the tricky part.

Her parents pleasant faces instantly mottled into horror as they suddenly recalled their daughter whom they'd forgotten for a year.

From the sound of the shouting coming from the house, they were not happy.

Giving their friend and her loved ones space, Harry and Ron had gone outside to sit on the porch, and had been there in awkward silence for well over an hour.

"...Hermione's mum really sounds like her," Ron remarked as he heard Hermione's mother shouting.

Harry winced sympathetically as Hermione's voice carried over the shouting as she tried to explain herself, "Glad we came here...I think I'm going to owe her parents an apology."

Ron nodded, "Yeah you might. The whole wizarding world might owe then an apology by the sound of it! It's beautiful here though... even if it is scorching!"

Harry nodded before glancing at his best friend's red ears. Reaching into his bag Harry offered Ron a bottle, "Here Ron. Some more sun block."

Ron accepted it graciously, "This is no place for someone with pale delicate skin such as myself!"

Harry chuckled, and Ron grinned as he began to slather on a new coating of lotion. At the same time both boys seems to realize it had gone quiet inside the house. Turning to look at the door, and then to each other, both scrambled to get up. The sudden silence had put them both on edge.

After a long moment the door opened, and Hermione's father stepped outside. The door remained open and they could see Hermione and her mother embracing tightly. Harry and Ron didn't get much time to see her, as soon the man had swept both boys up into a tight hug. Harry and Ron both fumbled in the man's grasp, Ron nearly choking as he was dragged down for the embrace.

"Thank you...thank you..." Mr. Granger's strained voice came, and Harry and Ron looked at each other from over the older man's shoulders.

"You kept her safe. That's all I could ask. Thank you!" Mr. Granger continued before releasing the two young men.

Harry and Ron could say nothing, as the man looked at them with gratitude and relief, his eyes wet, and his grin wide. Mr. Granger swept an arm towards the door, "Please. Please come inside. We've all much to talk about."

Harry and Ron nodded, obediently heading inside, trying not to look at Hermione and her mother as they wept and embraced. Mrs. Granger however spotted Ron, and wiped her eyes smiling wide. Still holding Hermione, Mrs. Granger sniffed and called out, "Oh Ronald! You'll have to tell me how you and my daughter came to be dating. I know she's fancied you for so long."

Ron's eyes went wide and his face turned as red as his hair.

Hermione squeaked mortified, and Harry choked, clamping a hand to his mouth as he desperately tried to contain his laughter.

Mr. Granger looked suddenly stricken and managed a, "What?" before turning to stare at Ron with an unreadable expression.

"Mother!" Hermione hissed, her face scarlet.

Mrs. Granger smiled, relishing in being able to be a mom, as well as for embarrassing her daughter.

"There now love, there's more punishment where that came from! I imagine your father's going to give your Ronald a talk! Consider this our first bit of punishment for making as forget you dear," Hermione's mother claimed calmly as she squeezed Hermione's shoulder.

Harry finally erupted, his laughter so loud and hard he had to sit down on the floor.

End

* * *

The A.M.C, or Australian Magical Commonwealth is something I of course made up. I wanted to sneak a little joke in here, just for myself really, so I figured out how to Turn my favorite place to see movies (Amc movie theaters) into Austraila's magical ministry.


	8. Ego

summery: Percy has a lot of shame to contend with.

Note: I hate to push for reviews, but if anyone has advice, or suggestions to help me improve, I'd love to hear from ya'll.

* * *

Percy stayed with his family for about two weeks before returning to his apartment in London. He assured them he'd visit every day, and would be checking constantly on everyone's state, but it was time to return to work and see what help could be provided. His father had clapped him on the arm and promised, "I'll see you at work then son."

Percy felt extremely lucky that his father could still call him son after everything he'd done.

Now home, Percy took a look around at the apartment that he'd so prided in himself before. It was filled with luxurious items that he could afford now that he was on his own. Framed certificates decorated his hall way, showing off his school hood merits and the few he'd earned at work. He had a fancy muggle coffee maker on his kitchen bar-he'd never used it, but he had it. The item had entertained people from the ministry, and it had been sort of a running joke at his place of work.

He had been becoming as low and haughty as Lucius Malfoy!

He had been so arrogant and prideful...

It made his stomach sick.

Percy desperately looked around his walls, hoping he had something...something...

Nothing.

There was not one family photo.

Collapsing on his couch, that probably cost more that half of what his parents owned, Percy broke down into tears, sobbing with shame and despair.

He hadn't realized how far he'd fallen. How little he'd valued his family in the past couple of years. He'd become a monster. His ego had blinded him to the suffering of those around him. As he sat there sobbing, his mind thinking of his brother who he'd never see again, Percy vowed that if he remained in the ministry he'd never scramble for a higher position. If he got one, then it would be from his superiors thinking he deserved it, and not because he was grasping for power. And he would make sure that people came first, especially his family, and not his pride.

His sobbing slowly resided, but the emptiness he felt remained the same.

Quietly Percy thanked whoever was listening, if anyone at all, that had given him the foresight to make amends with his family. If his last memory of Fred had been of them fighting, and disowning each other, Percy would truly never be able to recover. But thankfully, Percy instead had Fred's laugh to cling to, as well as Fred's praise, and joyous smile. Fred had been smiling before he'd gone, and at least Percy had done that if nothing else.

End


	9. Hissss

Harry finds he can no longer talk to snakes...in an unfortunate way.

Character(s): Golden Trio

Notes: Cutting it close today!

* * *

"Ah Bugger!" Harry hissed recoiling his hand to his chest as pain shot all the way up to his elbow.

Hermione and Ron came sprinting from their tent both crying out Harry's name.

"What is it?! What is it!?" They both cried out, Hermione running to Harry, while Ron scanned the horizon looking for any sign of wizards or witches that might have found them. His chest was puffed out, ready to throw a protective barrier between whoever may be around and his two best friends.

The three had been on a vacation of sorts. They were travelling the British country side, not in dire search of horcruxes, but just in leisurely enjoyment at getting to play anonymous from every witch and wizard that wanted an interview from Harry Potter and his "two sidekicks." A rather pompous wizard had referred to Hermione and Ron as such, and continued to say that Harry must have appreciated their companionship as if Ron and Hermione hadn't suffered in the least on their perilous journey. The look he'd given Hermione and Ron, like they were too simpering dolts that followed after Harry had been infuriating.

"It must have been extra work keeping your two friends alive, eh lad?" The wizard had said to Harry in a sympathetic tone.

Harry had punched the wizard square in the nose, and would have done more if he hadn't been stopped.

"I don't see anyone..." Ron muttered, before looking back to Harry whose face was scrunched in pain.

"A snake bit me!" Harry hissed as Hermione was trying to uncurl his bloodied fingers.

"Bloody hell! What it look like?" Ron rasped, eyes dropping to the ground in search of any loose snakes, "Was it poisonous?"

"No! No...Shit! It was just a grass snake!" Harry growled, wincing as Hermione continued to pull at his hand.

The witch blew a lock of hair out of her line of sight, eyes glancing over at the river bank Harry had been sitting by, "I see it. He's still there in the water. You're right Harry, that is a grass snake-Now! Uh! Now really, uncurl your hand so I can fix this!"

Harry muttered an oath and finally obeyed, Hermione examining Harry's hand.

Ron stepped close to the two and quietly watched as the two worked. Squinting, Ron chewed on his lower lip, and finally asked, "Hey...so...why did the snake bite you?"

Harry looked to Ron, and shrugged, "Well I..." Harry frowned for a moment, "I don't know. I said hello to it, and then reached out to touch him-"

"And he bit you?" Hermione asked, touching the tip of her wand to Harry's fingers.

Harry shuttered as something seemed to flow into his hand and soothe his ache. In another moment the pain was gone, and his wound closed. Harry flexed his fingers letting out a relieved sigh.

"Yeah...Yeah he did. The snake didn't say anything back though," Harry said looking back to the snake that coiled in the water.

Hermione's mind seemed to be working over this fact, "Try saying something to it again."

Harry looked at Hermione, and then to Ron. Ron shrugged his shoulders not sure what Hermione expected either. Harry sighed, and turned to the snake frowning at the small creature, "Hello you rude little sod."

Ron laughed, and even Hermione had a chuckle.

"Try seriously Harry!" Hermione tutted, even as the corners of her mouth curled upwards.

"That was serious!" Harry laughed, feigning hurt at her disapproval.

"We could understand that, mate. It didn't sound like any snake hissing to me!" Ron said over his chortled.

Harry frowned again, and looked back to the snake. He really had been intending to speak to the snake. Carefully the took in a breath, and then tried it again, "Hello?"

"Still speaking English," Ron said.

"I'm trying," Harry shot back, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Hermione however, was smiling, "I don't think you can speak parseltongue anymore Harry."

"What?" Harry and Ron both echoed looking to Hermione.

"How'd you make that one out Hermione?" Ron questioned further.

Hermione smiled, folding her arms and looking like she'd just aced all her N.E.W.T.s in world record time. Looking at Ron and Harry's perplexed faces she began to explain, "Well...the ability to speak parseltongue was always something left over from Voldemort wasn't it? He's gone now...all fragments of him are gone...maybe your ability as a parselmouth has gone as well."

"Do you think so?" Ron asked looking at Hermione, and then to Harry.

"I...I don't know," Harry suddenly answered, an odd grin taking over him. The odd ability to speak to snakes had never really bothered him unless scrutinized by classmates and those who would see it as a way to compare Voldemort and Harry. Other than the ties speaking parseltongue gave Harry to Voldemort, Harry had almost thought of this ability with fondness. He would often remember that snake he had freed from the zoo, and entrapping his awful cousin with fondness. But if the ability to speak pasreltongue was gone, and was gone because Voldemort was gone forever... well that thought made Harry giddy.

"Well...you could always keep trying to to talk to snakes," Hermione suggested.

Harry slapped Ron heartily on the back, "Yeah mate! Give 'em a good hissin'!"

Harry and Hermione broke out in grins, and Ron waggled his eyebrows at his two friends, "But keep your hands to yourself next time huh?"

End


	10. Mother's Magic

Hannah Abbott remembers her mother.

Character(s): Hannah abbott, her father, Neville Longbottom. (Hint of future Hannah/Neville)

* * *

Hannah Abbott kept her hand in her fathers, and with a stiff upper lip, led her father to visit her mother's grave. Her eyes were watery, but face dry, and she felt proud that she could be her father's rock as she led him to his wife's headstone. He was a mess, and shook with his grief as if she had just passed, but she had been gone for almost three years now. No matter how it hurt, she'd been dead and cold for many long days now...

When they reached the grave he collapsed before it, and Hannah reached out squeezing her father's shoulder, not quite able to look at him.

Sniffing, the man withdrew a wand from his pocket and muttered a spell, causing foxgloves to begin to sprout around the headstone standing tall and stiff before them.

Mr. Abbot snickered with disappointment, "I was always ruddy with making flowers. I amazed your mother with magic, but she never really understood how clumsy I actually was with it!"

Hannah smiled at her father, despite the wretchedness she felt, "You wanted honeysuckle didn't you?"

"Your mother's favorite. She said it was delightful to be able to eat something that smelled and looked so pretty," Mr. Abbot wheezed looking sadly at the foxgloves he'd accidentally conjured.

"That was mum's magic. Every spell...every moving photo...every nasty jellybean was a gift to her... everything was magic for her. She could make a rainbow out of a bin of garbage! " Hannah whispered remembering her mother's round face, and shining eyes.

Hannah's mother had been a muggle, and found all magic to be charming, even the simplest of spells delighted her. She used to say her father's magic was the best, but in truth her father had always been quite clumsy with his casting. She used to say his clumsiness won her over, and would laugh loud as she recalled, "I don't know how he managed to keep the fact he was a wizard hidden so long! He'd trip all over himself and then suddenly there would be bubbles everywhere, or some other oddity! When he told me what he was, I believed him right away. It made the most sense you know!"

Hannah could see her now in her mind's eye, sitting at the chair crocheting. It was something she liked to do to keep her hands busy. Hannah's throat got tight, as she wondered what her poor mother must have thought to have her door kicked in by death eater's. There had been no real reason for the attack... Hannah's family had been attacked for the simple reason that it was well known that her father was married to a muggle, and they lived together in a little house near Gringotts Wizarding bank.

Hannah swallowed painfully hard, supposing that even if there had been a better reason, her mother's murder wouldn't have ever brought her any comfort.

"I used to fall arse over tit in front of your mum! I was always trying to impress her. And she loved flowers the best. But I never could make her favorites with ease..." Mr. Abbott sniffled.

"Maybe...Maybe I can try to make the honeysuckle," Hannah whispered, her tears finally falling. Her hand trembled as she withdrew her wand, but she couldn't think of the right words.

As her eyes fell down to the headstone, they flew wide as the foxgloves stretched and twisted around the cold dull stone. They curled and grew thick and lush, transforming into the most beautiful honeysuckle she'd ever seen. The flowers overflowed and the vines burst forth across her mother's plot and even invaded other gravestones. Mr. Abbott looked to his daughter, and then just behind her, surprise and delight written all over his face.

Hannah turned sharply, wiping her weeping eyes and was surprised to see Neville Longbottom just behind her.

He was dressed in black robes, and his wand was pointed at the grave. He looked surprised at the spell's strength, and hastily stuffed his wand away. His face blotched with color making the many cuts and healing wounds on his face stand out. Hannah suddenly recalled hearing that Neville had become an Auror in order to round up the last of the Voldemort's supporters.

"I'm sorry," He blurted, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I only... I wanted to help."

Neville ducked away from Hannah's gaze, and gestured behind him, "I'm just waiting. There will be a funeral for another Auror in a bit, and I saw you both. I thought I recognized you, and thought I'd say hello. I forgot where we were! I didn't mean to intrude-"

"No harm done," Hannah managed weakly, and offered a real smile to him, "Truly. Thank you."

"Yes... Yes thank you!" Mr. Abbott wheezed stumbling to his feet and shaking Neville's hand. Neville clasped her father's hand and supported the man graciously, gently smiling at her father.

"The honeysuckle is lovely! Thank you!" Mr. Abbott said again, still vigorously shaking Neville's hand.

Hannah couldn't help but think her father and Neville seemed to be alike in clumsiness. She had never noticed before.

Remembering what Neville had said, Hannah cleared her throat, "I'm sorry about the Auror. Were you friends?"

"Oh...no. No, not really," Neville answered awkwardly, "But I was there, and I didn't want the family to be alone. I thought I might offer some comfort, as little as there is to give."

Hannah was moved by Neville's kindness, and took her classmate by the shoulder. She could see he was anxious in what he was doing, and with true gratitude said, "You brought comfort to us. The smallest gestures make the biggest and most lasting impressions. Thank you. Thank you. You're doing right by being here for them Neville. You are incredibly kind."

Neville blushed under her stare, and smiled at her, grateful for her encouragement. He clapped her father on the shoulder, and then politely tipped his head to Hannah, "I'll leave you two now..." He finished off awkwardly not sure what else to say, and then stumbled away, half tripping as he went.

Hannah watched him, heart warmed, and truly grateful for the small little wonder he had done for them.

"Marvelous lad," Mr. Abbott sniffed, "These flowers are perfect. That was Neville Longbottom right? He stood up to you-know-who at the end of it all right? At your school?"

"Yes," Hannah said, eyes following after her old classmate, "He was always good at herbology...but shoddy at transfiguration. But he did great with those flowers didn't he?"

Mr. Abbott smiled, "Yes, yes he did. Marvelous lad..." Her father turned back to look at her mother's headstone, clearly overwhelmed with gratitude.

Her heart warmed and swelled as she watched Neville go, and an odd thought struck her that she would like to bring him back here to her mother's grave, and introduce him to her.

Her mother would have liked him very much.

End


	11. Don't Shun Happiness

Harry feels guilt over feeling happy.

Note: no time to edit !

* * *

Harry stared at Kingsley, mouth agape with shock, "I'm...I'm allowed to join the ministry? I can be an Auror?"

Kingsley smiled, and nodded his head, "Yes Mr. Potter. Anyone who took part in the war are allowed to join the Auror department-we'd only be all too happy to have you. Ronald was here earlier, and invited as well. He's accepted. Miss Granger however told us she's heading back to Hogwarts when they re-open in a couple weeks."

Harry smiled, "Yes. Hermione wants to finish her education...I don't know what else she could possibly learn however."

Kingsley and Harry had a good chuckle at that.

"I'm pleased to have quite a few people who will be joining us. It will take some time, but we're going to remove all that would tarnish the Ministry's good name. The department is going to get a complete  
"tune-up," as it were," Kingsley said, voice eager, and eyes shining. He was ready to revolutionize the ministry, and weed out all that had corrupted what was supposed to be a just system.

Harry felt a wide variety of emotions overtake him, and burst, "This is great sir, thank you! Thank you."

Unexpectedly, Harry's voice dipped at the end, his elation giving way to sadness.

"Alright there Mr. Potter?" Kingsley asked noticing the change.

Harry smiled, flexing his fingers, "I... I just suddenly got..."

"Sad?" Kingsley offered, an understanding look crossing his face.

Harry swallowed hard and nodded, suddenly too embarrassed to meet Kingsley's eye.

"Don't let it consume you Harry. Smile when you're happy Harry...don't shun it. These next few years will be hard...take every day one day at a time. And when you're happy relish in it. It's what our loved ones would want," Kinsley advised, the older man's voice ringing with experience.

Harry smiled, and nodded, "Yes...yes thank you sir. Thank you again. I can't wait to start."

Kingsely grinned, "Good! Good! Now go on Mr. Potter. Lots to do today I'm afraid!"

Harry nodded, half stumbling as he went he was so excited. Hermione may not have liked it, but there was something nice about having a good job, and getting to skip out on the last bit of school!

End


	12. 12 Grimmauld PLace

Harry moves into his inherited home.

Character(s): Harry and Ron

mentions of Harry/Ginny

* * *

Standing in the hallway of the old Black home, Harry suddenly felt overwhelmed.

This place had been his since Sirius died...but now it really felt like __his__. Harry was officially moving in, and the place seemed too large for someone who would be living on his own. How had he managed to go from a boy in a cupboard, to a young man who was easily dwarfed in such a large space?

Ron lightly nudged his elbow into Harry's side, offering Harry a sympathetic grin, "Big place."

Harry swallowed, "Yes. It is."

"Don't worry. You got Kreacher here-" Ron began, only to be interrupted as the old house-elf scurried past in the hallway, arms filled with blankets.

Kreacher had been cleaning the old Black house in preparation for Harry for almost a month now. When Harry had announced he would indeed return to what would now be his home, Kreacher had wept with joy, and promised to restore the house to its full glory. Kreacher promised to remove any signs of racism for muggle born witches or wizards from the home (at Harry's request), and even promised to arrange for the more seedier items of the home to be removed. Ron had made sure Harry mentioned those old robes that almost strangled him had to go. Kreacher had promised that most of the items, except for furniture, would be properly put away somewhere else.

And if Kreacher kept any of his old Master's belongings so he could remember them, Harry would continue to pretend to be none the wiser.

Harry looked around smiling. The house was indeed much changed; Kreacher had managed to make the home seem a little more welcoming. It still had dark walls, and carpets, and overly dramatic and Gothic furniture, but the lights were bright and everything was on its way to being cleaned. The place was really beginning to shape up.

"It is...very big," Harry said again taking a few steps inside.

"...You could always rent a few rooms out?" Ron suggested, surprising Harry with the fiscally responsible suggestion.

"...I was actually,well..." Harry swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "...I was wondering if you and Hermione might...come to stay here?"

Harry felt his ears turn red as he felt Ron's head snap to look at him. Harry was suddenly too embarrassed to meet his friend's eye.

"You want us to live with you?" Ron asked after a moment of shocked silence, "Really?"

Harry nodded, pushing his glasses back on to his face after nearly knocking them off, "There are three floors...and plenty of room for everyone to have their own space. And though Kreacher is much better now...it's an awful lonely place..."

Ron digested this slowly, before taking in a deep breath, "You ask Hermione yet?"

"I wanted to ask you first..." Harry assured Ron.

"She'll be at school soon," Ron said, reminding Harry that Hermione and Ginny both would be returning back to the newly opened Hogwarts in the middle of September.

"Yes I know, but you both could call this your place. You sooner of course, but when Hermione is done with school she could come live here with us too. That is, if you decide to stay here too," Harry stumbled over his words. This conversation was proving harder than he thought it would.

"What about... you know. Gin."

Harry blinked and looked at Ron suddenly confused, "What about her?"

Ron's face went red, "Well, you didn't want to ask her to move in here?"

"We've barely been dating!" Harry gasped, eyes wide with Ron's suggestion.

"Well I...I mean. Don't you want this place alone to yourself? Because... you and Ginny could...have privacy?" Ron's voice squeaked off awkwardly and he looked at the ceiling, his whole head glowing red. Talking about Harry and Ginny as an item seemed to still be a hard subject, but it was no longer so taboo. And Ron was showing signs of acceptance and not bursting out into the room if he suspected Harry and Ginny to be snogging.

"I...I'm not going to just..." Harry fumbled with words, face flushed red, "I would never do anything with your sister until...we were both..."

Both young men looked at each other, started coughing, and then finally resolved into giggles. Their nervous shrill giggles sounded ridiculous echoing in the long empty hall, and caused both of them to break down into true real loud laughter. They both took grasping breaths, and grabbed opposites sides of the hallway, trying to support themselves up as their amusement almost toppled them over.

"Look, your sister isn't a tart, and I'm not a cad! I have no plans to... get to __that__ anytime soon!" Harry wheezed.

Ron rubbed his eyes, grinning ear to ear, "I wasn't trying to say you two were... but I mean. The Burrow is always full. Here you could have a place to snog!"

"I'm sure I'll bring her here to snog too, but I wouldn't mind having my best friends here," Harry said, his words coming easier now.

Ron raised a brow and in a serious tone asked, "What you want to snog us too?"

"Now don't be a prat!" Harry laughed, reaching out and swatting at Ron. "Though I expect the two of you would be snogging here as well, eh?"

Ron grinned, ignoring the last part of Harry's statement, "Yes...okay. Yeah. It'd be...nice. Real... cool...but..."

Harry removed his fogged glasses and began to clean them as he waited for Ron to finish.

"I need to stay with my parents for a while first. I've got to... be there for Mum and Dad. And I just managed to take a step inside the Burrow... I wouldn't want them to think I'm still a wanker and just buggering off!"

"No one thinks you're a wanker Ron," Harry snorted.

Ron pressed a hand to his chest, feigning a look of shock, "You clearly haven't been talking to my brothers or sister enough!"

Harry snorted, smiling at his best friend. It was nice to be able to speak with Ron easily again.

Ron sighed and took in a deep breath, "But... maybe after Christmas I could move in. But listen, I'm going to be making money-so you will be charging me Rent!"

Harry scrunched up his face and opened his mouth to protest, but Ron held out a hand, "No. Don't argue, there has to be some money exchange. Grocery money, or rent, or something! It's only fair if you're going to have another person in your house mate!"

Harry let his shoulders fall, and sighed heavily. He gave a curt nod, accepting Ron's terms for now. It did make sense to charge some sort of rent, but that didn't mean Harry had to like it.

Ron looked around the hallway, and sighed, "Are you sure you want me of all people?"

"Of course!" Harry immediately responded, "Maybe this is a little mad, but sometimes I'm still afraid I'll wake up and find out both you and Hermione are gone. If you're both here...or at least planning to be here... well. I'll worry less."

Ron smiled at Harry, eyes filled with a deep emotion that Harry couldn't look at long. Harry ducked his head, hating that he felt so needy, but he just wasn't quite ready to have his friends out of his sight. He had insisted they stay together for as long as possible, and though Hermione and Ron readily agreed to all of Harry's suggestion to stick together, be it a the Burrow, or retrieving Hermione's parents from Australia... Harry still felt like some insane, needy crybaby.

"I understand... I get it," Ron said tone soft, and truly understanding, "I can't believe we made it either."

Harry swallowed hard, shocked to hear Ron voice what had been plaguing Harry's thoughts.

Harry nodded, finally feeling relaxed in his new home. Pushing himself away from the wall, he helped Ron right himself, and in silence the pair made their way to the kitchen. Ron put a companionable arm around Harry, and for a moment Harry was eleven again and on his way to Hogwarts. And in that moment he had been so happy to have a tall gangling red head join him in his train compartment. Harry slipped his own arm around Ron's shoulders, coming back to the present.

He was really glad that once again, he wouldn't have to face the unknown alone.

End


	13. Double Check

Hermione gets ready for school.

Notes: I imagine some of these might be extremely short so I can get through it all! I don't know if i'll mange to complete this challenge, but it'd be nice!

* * *

Hermione looked over her list for her next year- _her last year_ -of Hogwarts.

She would be back to school in another week-and she needed to be prepared.

'Am I doing the right thing?' floated through her head for the hundredth time.

She had gone back and forth on whether she should be going back to school. She didn't like the thought that she could have missed anything really valuable at school, she really wanted to complete her education. But there were still death eaters that needed rounding up. Ron, Harry, and even Neville had declined returning so that they could pursue those death eaters (and avoid more tests Ron had practically shouted with delight).

Should she be going to school? Shouldn't she be helping to stop them? Or even just spending time with her parents?

Hermione closed her eyes, and took in a calm breath.

'It's alright...it's alright. You don't want to be an Auror. You want to finish school. There's no shame in doing something you want,' Hermione reminded herself. A blush tinted her cheeks as she remembered they weren't really her words but Ron's. Maybe she had them worded a little more eloquently in her head, but it was still Ron who had encouraged her to choose the path she thought was best for herself.

She smiled, consoling herself that she was doing the right thing, and once again double checked her list for her last year of school.

End


	14. Missing a Brother

Missing a brother

Character(s): not who you may initially expect...

* * *

They had always been a pair, he and his brother. Especially during that last year together...on the run from snatchers, all sorts of shady death eaters out for their blood...they had never asked to be muggle born.

Why had they been so despised?

Why did Colin have to die?

Dennis Creevey was outside in the alley by Ollivanders, hiding from the busy streets, as a new sharp wave of sadness hit him.

The wizarding world had been so amazing when he first got his letter. Magic was __real!__ Brooms flew! Owls could bring you letters! Ghosts were at your school! Hats could talk! And you even could run into famous sorts who took down evil, like Harry Potter. Colin had told him so much about Hogwarts after his first year, that Dennis had mourned at the thought he might not get to go.

For weeks following Colin's first year, the brothers tried to get Dennis to show signs of magic as well, surely if Colin could do magic, Dennis could. Nothing had worked... It was nearing the end of June when Dennis threw a shoe at his brother in frustration, and to both of their amazement the shoe exploded into confetti. Now, there was no sure telling that this was Dennis, but by the time he was eleven he too had received a letter.

Being a wizard had been a dream... and then darker truths had been revealed.

He and his brother were hated because there parents were normal? For being muggles? What was wrong with all that? Why did it matter his father was a milkman, and that his mother a school teacher?

Colin had advised he ignore it, but so much of their lives began to be wrapped up in the terrible darkness that Voldemort was spreading around like a plague, that is was hard to ignore. You couldn't avoid a terrible illness that sought out to destroy you from within, and you couldn't ignore a bunch of terrorists running around in robes and wielding wands like guns, who delighted in taking innocent lives. That's what Voldemort and the death eaters were... a terrible sickness.

And when the sickness that was hate ran its course, Dennis was left mourning a brother.

Dennis bit back a sob, his hand flying to his face as he thought of his poor, brave older brother. How could this have happened? Why had he been left all alone? He would have traded all the wonder of the magical world so he could have his brother back...

"Hello there young man..." a rough old voice interrupted Dennis' muffled sobs, and mournful wishes.

The young boy sprang up wiping his face quick, and looked into an old and surprisingly understanding face.

"Mr. Ollivander, sir," Dennis whispered, his voice thick and nasally from his tears.

"...Hawthorn, black with cracked markings, nine inches, and with the very rare Unicorn tears as a core...am I right?" The old man asked, his hands folded passively in front of him.

It took Dennis a moment, and then he nodded, "That...that was my brother's wand. Yes. yes."

"And yours, also Hawthorn, black and flexible with an eleven inch length, and a unicorn hair..." Ollivander continued.

"Yes, it-it was. Mine was broken during...during last year-" Dennis swallowed remember that his wand had broken when he and his brother had returned to Hogwarts to witness the final battle. Colin found one of his friends, Betty Bagger, told Dennis to go with her. Dennis has obeyed, scared and frightened of the chaos around him. Colin has smiled, unknowingly for the last time, promised to be back, a promise her would break, and turned and ran for the battle. Colin's wand held aloft, was the last sight Dennis had of his brother.

Ollivander's eye gave an odd twinkle, and he reached out putting and arm around Colin's shoulder, "You have your brother's wand on you don't you?"

Dennis nodded, and pulled out his brother's wand, something he had been carrying with him since Colin's death. Ollivander brushed his finger tips along the wood, and looked at Dennis, "Wands are mysterious. I have often claimed wands choose the wizard, and this wand is calling to you now. You will find that this wand will be more than satisfactory."

Dennis swallowed hard and looked at what was once his brother's wand. "I don't understand..." he admitted, voice weak and small.

"Sometimes you can't make sense of something that has happened. But it doesn't change that it has indeed happened. This wand, missing a master, is calling out to you. You are missing the owner of that wand, and I somehow felt the need to check the alley by my shop," Ollivander squeezed the boys shoulder, and with sad pale eyes continued to speak softly, "The world is fantastical place, ful of mystery and magic. Don't be too surprised... just try to accept it and live with the great changes. And reach out for others when you find yourself in need."

Dennis took in a shuddering breath, at a loss for words. His eyes closed, and he tried to open his mouth, but only a dry sob escaped him.

As he clung to his brother's wand, that he would now call his own, he allowed Ollivander, probably one of the greatest wand makers in the world, to hold him as he mourned.

Colin, with his artistic eye, would have loved to take a picture of this moment.

End


	15. The Silence in Peace

Hagrid after the battle.

Note: A surprise tornado threw off my writing game! It knocked out our power, and there was really nothing for me to do! Now that i haven't written in a little while it's thrown my game off!

* * *

When the world was celebrating Harry Potter's victory, Hagrid noticed that after the eruption of joy and noise, the world slipped into a musical calm.

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

That peaceful quiet after the raging war...

Tears streaming down his face, he limped to his little hut and gripped the door frame of his home. So many children had died, as had their parents, as had their uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, and the occasional perfect stranger. So many had died and had not gotten this chance to enjoy the beautiful silence of peace. He choked, and wiped his ruddy face on his sleeve.

He was so lucky to be accounted for, among the living.

Hagrid's sobs eventually turned to laughter, to sobs, and then again to laughter, before once again finally puttering out into a one last remorseful sigh. The dawn had shed it's light on a new day, and Hagrid would be around to see it.

He didn't know why that thought made him feel so empty.

Sniffling one last time, he shouldered his way into the Hut, leaving the door up, and sank into his bed-a bed he hadn't seen in long time.

And with the door wide open on a new peaceful world, Hagrid fell asleep.

End


End file.
